UH ZOOM ZIP: I mean no great measure of disagreement with Amy's preview of races that go two or more times around the ovoid, but let's not slight the sprints (as a short-legged guy, I'm okay with slighting the hurdles). The 400 is my favorite race; the 200 is a lot of fun; and let's just put this out there: the 100-meter dash is, more than any other event, the spiritual core of the Olympics.

Before the Olympics became a commercial enterprise, before they added women and snow, before they even included throwing things and homoeroticism, they were a track meet involving exactly one event: a sprint. Though Wikipedia says that that race was closer to a 200M than a 100M, it was also run in a straight line. The origin of all Olympic sport, and its purest essence, was the simple question: Who can get from here to there faster?

In the 2794 years since that first race there have been, other than the truncation of the distance and a temporary suspension of clothing, no fundamental rule changes. Start here, run in a straight line, first one there wins. There is no fussing with limitations on how you can run the race (like racewalking or swim-stroke rules), no point awarded for artistic merit, no explanation of arcane terminology necessary to convey the idea to the neophyte spectator. A person could emerge from a lifetime in the jungle and, if not inclined to believe that people are fleeing the thunderstick, would get the gist within the first five meters.

The 100-meter dash, then, is most basic, most fundamental expression of the Olympic ideal. It is man, unaided by wind, gravity, or mechanical technology, and unimpeded by rules or physical obstacles, reaching the outer limit of human velocity.

So what are the odds that the three fastest human beings in history -- let that sink in for a second -- would be peaking at exactly the same time? (Actually, given the confluence of evolution, economics, and science both licit and illicit, I would say "pretty high.") American Tyson Gay, who has run a 9.77, prompted some evangelical web sites to auto-correct their squibs to "Homosexual Wins 100M". Jamaica's Asafa Powell has run a 9.74. And Jamaica's Usain Bolt, a giant who sometimes runs in what looks like a $5 Target muscle shirt and who comes out of the blocks looking like a rec-league forward recovering from a stumble, is both the fastest (at 9.72 seconds) and most unusual sprinter ever. And holy crap, he just popped a very conservative start, ran a relaxed 40 meters, slowed down, and jogged the last 20 meters, and he still posted a 9.92. That would have won the Olympics in all but the last three games and 1968, and it looked like a warm-down.

The idea that somebody might run under 9.7 seconds -- much less that the guy who does it might have to turn over legs long enough to carry him to 6'5" -- is amazing. I only wish, despite the inconvenience and the tape-delay, that it could happen in the Beijing evening, because a man a half-foot taller than all his competitors running under 9.7 seconds in a packed Bird's Nest at night with flash bulbs popping might break the ceiling for HDTV.

FROM FINS TO FEET: As the Games transition from the pool to the track (and enclosed field), frequent commenter Amy previews the distance events:

Ah, track. As great as swimming has been, it is finally time for my favorite part of the Olympics—Track & Field. Or, as it’s officially called, Athletics. This year, the distance and middle-distance races should be a lot of fun to watch thanks to an invigorated USA Track and Field team that actually has a shot at giving the US a few medals in distances greater than 400. Some faces in the US crowd to watch, starting with the men:

800— Nick Symmonds, Andrew Wheating and Christian Smith ran one of the most exciting track races I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen many) at the trials in Eugene in July. The Track Town, USA crowd was thrilled to see their hometown boys go 1,2 and 3. Seriously go watch it right now, it was amazing.

What to watch: Symmonds’ amazing last-second kick and Andrew Wheating. Wheating has only been running track for a couple of years and no one knows just how good he is. Plus, they seem like nice boys from Oregon who are literally living their dream. That’s fun to see. It’s also a plus that they’re carrying on the legacy of awesome Eugene runners that started with the likes of Bill Bowerman, Prefontaineand Frank Shorter.

1500— Bernard Lagat, Lopez Lomong and Leo Manzano form the all foreign-born US squad that could give the US a medal or 2. Lagat’s fun to watch because he’s a beautiful runner, but I think we should all root for our flag bearer, Lopez Lomong who is absolutely incredible both on and off the track.

As you probably all know, he was one of the Lost Boys of Sudan who was adopted by U.S. parents. He discovered track watching Michael Johnson in 2000 on a black and white TV and decided then and there to run and win gold in the Olympics and I hope he does. He is immensely proud to be an American and in my opinion, represents everything good about the U.S. Lagat’s hungry for gold too though — he’s already won a bronze and silver in this event (when competing for Kenya) and has promised his mom that he’ll bring her a gold. He’s also capable of dealing with any kind of race which is pretty rare — he can kick late or start fast. I hope they kick late because that’s a lot more fun to watch.

5000— Bernard Lagat is back trying to make a historic double in the 1500 and 5000 like he did last year at World’s in Osaka. He should have some stiff international competition, particularly from the runners representing his native Kenya, but he seems focused, in shape and ready to go. If he’s successful in the 1500, it’ll make the 5000 really fun to watch. If he’s not, this event could be a little boring.

10,000— I don’t expect the US to medal in this event. Galen Rupp, while a sweet kid who trains at the amazing and technologically mind-blowing Nike campus with legend Alberto Salazar he’s still too young to realistically think about cracking even the top 5. Abdi Abraham and Jorge Torres are both good runners, but I don’t think they can hang with the intense international competition.

And finally, my favorite, the marathon—Ryan Hall is poised to make history and medal in the Olympic marathon. You can read more about Ryan here (Ed. note -- or this New Yorker article) but basically he’s an enormously talented runner and seems to be a pretty cool dude — he’s using the Olympics to promote his favorite charity and has been extremely gracious in every interview I’ve seen — but don’t let that fool you, he’s a really aggressive racer who will fight the entire distance. His 2:06:17 in London was the fastest marathon by an American-born citizen ever.

To put that number in perspective, a 2:06:17 is a 4:49/mile pace. For 26 miles. Try to go run even an 800 meter at a 4:49 pace and then imagine sustaining that. It is unreal. This race is also special to Ryan as he is running it in memory of his friend Ryan Shay who shockingly collapsed and died at mile 7 of the Olympic trials in NYC. The Americans haven’t won gold in the Olympic marathon since Frank Shorter in 1972 but there is a very real chance that Ryan could change that if everything breaks his way. Although, this is the marathon and anything could happen.

The U.S. also has a fairly strong women’s team in Beijing. Here are a few faces to look for:

800— all of the U.S. women failed to qualify this morning in preliminary rounds. This isn’t too surprising given that their times have been slower than the dynamic east African nations.

1500— the U.S. hasn’t won a medal in the 1500 since the early 1900s. But, this year Shannon Rowbury has a decent shot at hitting the podium. She put in a solid 4:05 at Olympic Trials and holds the 4th fastest time in the world right now. She’s been blogging for the SF Chronicle and it seems like her workouts are going well. (On that note, the track stars in China who are blogging are raving about the training camp in Dalian for its amenities and extreme security).

5,000— Americans Kara Goucher (my favorite!), Shalane Flanagan and Jen Rhines will be running for Team USA against a pretty tough elite field. Goucher and Flanagan are trying to double with the 10,000 which means they’ll have tired legs but I would not count them out — particularly not the gutsy Goucher.

Kara is a fun runner to watch—she’s also coached by Alberto Salazar and is part of team Oregon. Her husband Adam is also an elite runner and Olympian although he failed to make this year’s team and they’ve both improved significantly since making the move to Portland. Maybe there is something to all the anti-gravity treadmill, heat-suit wearing, techno-training they’ve been doing. Kara’s spoken out quite a bit about how she’s moved beyond her own mental blocks and quit psyching herself out in big races. Let’s hope she continues that!

10,000— Flanagan took this at Olympic Trials and will be joined by Goucher and Amy Yoder-Begley. You may remember Amy (or not since you’re probably not track geeks) from Olympic Trials when she had to gut out a surprise 3rd place finish and the Olympic “A” standard. She won’t medal, but she’s close friends with Goucher and their reaction to winning was very cute — lots of jumping around and screaming. I don’t think we’ll take gold here, but my money is that Flanagan (the current U.S. record holder) or Goucher will medal. Kara won the Bronze at the World Championships in Osaka last year and Flanagan beat Deena Kastor’s American record. And, they are both very determined, strong, focused runners. Kara’s my favorite — she’s has a beautiful stride and I love that she’s come back from injury and difficulty.

The Marathon! Well, I am looking forward to this year’s marathon because the entire U.S. squad is from California. Deena Kastor took a surprising bronze in Athens and easily won at the U.S. trials in Boston this year. She trains with Ryan Hall in Mammoth Lakes and runs because it is “pure joy.” Magdalena Lewy-Boulet is a gutsy, smart runner who led for 24 miles at Olympic Trials who could surprise everyone (she has a nice story too — she became a U.S. citizen on 9-11 and often trains on a treadmill so she can be home with her new-ish baby) and Blake Russell (who qualified this year after a heartbreaking 4th place finish in 2004) seems to be in good shape.

The marathon has a topsy-turvy field this year with NYC marathon champ Paula Radcliffe of England recovering from a femoral stress fracture but still competing, the defending champion dropping out due to injury, and a number of unknowns competing, so it’s anyone’s race. I’m rooting for Deena who makes a mean enchilada to better her bronze from Athens.

* * *

The distance races are races of heart — as a middle of the pack recreational runner I know how hard it is to push yourself through the end of a 5k or 10k when your lungs and legs are burning and your head is telling you to quit. Don't let their calm expressions and even paces fool you — these guys are working extremely hard and are tough as nails. The heat and humidity and possibly air quality are going to be factors, but these races should be a blast to watch.

IT JUST GOES OM AND OM AND OM: What is it about yoga that makes people who do yoga talk about yoga all the time? I just told someone that Spacewoman used to complain about people who talk constantly about yoga but that now she talks about yoga constantly. The woman to whom I was talking laughed, and then guess what she talked about for the next 15 minutes?

GROUND DELAYS: Our own peregrinations have prevented timely attention to Project Runway posts over the last two weeks, but tonight the available Olympic boxing and badminton coverage drove us right back into the DVR'd arms of Tim, Heidi, Nina, and Michael. Other than Lady Jeffrey Sebelia's line about bikers at the Olympics and Terri's crack about Suede's vajajay, I was underwhelmed by the drama.

Currently on the aspirational auf list around our house is the tired-sounding, tediously attired guy with the "exquisite high-end taste" and, apparently, no sense of style whatsoever. Between last week's retro-1950s purplesaurus smockdress and this week's "it's her design, so I don't care" ... what's his name again? Oh yeah, I don't either.

Anyone have anything to get off their chest about the last two eliminations? Again, and particularly this week, it seemed like there were some good looks. Favorites?

Thursday, August 14, 2008

THE CINNAMON B-ROLL: Just a question, but is everyone's local news running a "let's order all this food Michael Phelps eats" to show the audience that, in fact, a four thousand calorie meal (or a twelve thousand calorie day) involves a lot of food?

[Y]ou can't blame NBC for airing exactly the sort of coverage viewers want and expect. When a network's sports division covers a Detroit Tigers game, we don't look for commentators to talk about the city's poverty rate or crime statistics. When other nations cover U.S.-hosted Olympics, we hope they produce stories on our events and athletes -- not use their army of cameras and reporters, here to cover gymnastics and swimming, to produce drive-by autopsies of our societal and political flaws.

... Because there's so much attention given to the Games, [] it's easy to think the event somehow deserves a focus that expands beyond mere sports reporting and fluffy travelogues. But what is it about the Olympics that necessitates such heightened scrutiny? The number of nations involved? The national pride on display? The John Williams fanfare? The athletes are the best each country has to offer, not what is typical. Olympic coverage tends to likewise focus on what is optimistic and extraordinary about the host country. In other words, the coverage is thematically consistent ... if not honest and realistic. ...

For most viewers, [] NBC has been providing precisely the Olympics they want to see: heartfelt stories of athletes from around the world overcoming all odds to win gold medals. If you tune into NBC's "Beijing Olympics" and NBC gives you Beijing Olympics coverage ... you can't say the network didn't deliver what it sold.

Actually, that'd be a fun Olympics -- instead of each nation picking its best athletes, just have each randomly select citizens from all walks of life and give them six months to train in their assigned disciplines. It'd be like reinstituting the draft ... only with team handball and canoeing. Would make for a hell of a fun reality show to watch.

DEPARTMENT OF OVERPROMISING: I'm not terribly interested in seeing Vicky Christina Barcelona, given Woody Allen's track record over the past few years, but if you want to get male visitors interested? Here's how to do it.

THE LAND OF ... THE FREE! UH, OH: I know Adam mentioned the singing in the post title below, but how on earth can he omit the links? Look -- if you're going to have a debate about the title of "greatest Olympian of all time," you shall not, must not, cannot ignore this data point. Wait, that data point is missing the suit. Wait, sorry, moving in a different direction here, maybe this is the definitive evidence.

BUT CAN HE SING? Pundits are starting to debate whether Michael Phelps is the Greatest Olympian of All Time, or whether the title still belongs to someone like Carl Lewis, who won gold over a longer period of time, exhibiting what some would consider a more diverse array of skills (sprints, relays and the long jump). (Oh: and Lewis also qualified for the Moscow Olympics in 1980).

Phelps does have as many golds in these Games as Australia and Japan, but at the same time he's competing in a discipline that affords multiple opportunities for medals. The greatest Olympic boxer, as Slate has tweeted, can only win one medal per Games. Of course, Phelps will only be 27 for the London 2012 Games, and in Dara Torres years ...

HALL OF FAVES: As Adam mentioned below, Michael Wilbon's election to "ALOTT5MA fave" status went down yesterday, marking the first time in history a person, thing, or abstraction was nominated but failed to take the honor (though it's going to be touch-and-go when "ennui" comes up later this year). This is largely because until Adam thought to ask the staff about Wilbon yesterday, the enshrinement process went: (1) fiat; (2) buyer's remorse. Let's face it, "ALOTT5MA Fave" status is a dubious honor bestowed, with rare exceptions, upon people or things that aren't really anybody's favorite anything. I dare you to come up with a less-impressive or more haphazard Hall of Fame than this roster of everyone that any of us has ever called an "ALOTT5MA fave":

And while we're clearing up administrative matters, you have probably heard us refer to this department or that bureau, and wondered, "where can I get an ALOTT5MA internal directory?" The answer is here, right now, with the following list of organizational responsibilities or expertises adopted, appropriated, or assigned:

DEAR CONTINENTAL AIRLINES: You know what's awesome? After a long day of defending a deposition (running long enough so you miss your flight back, and will catch the 6:00 AM flight tomorrow), you return to the hotel, realizing that fortunately, you brought the extra change of clothes, but unfortunately, the book you're reading is kind of a downer.

SEE, IF I WERE REALLY A CHINA-BASHER, I MIGHT JUST CALL IT LOW-TECH CENSORSHIP: Occasional commenter George, who apparently is an insomniac weighliftophile, wants people to know that "Janos Baranyai‏ is Hungarian for Joe Theisman." I'm not going to link to the video -- you can find it yourself. Apparently I'm the kind of guy who will forward videos of athletic failure and who will watch videos of disfiguring athletic injury, but who will not forward videos of athletic failure resulting in disfiguring injury. Yes, that is a line so fine you can floss with it.

I mention Baranyi, though, because commenter Anderson thinks we've been too hard on China, and I want to say something nice. When Baranyi went down, it took about a nanosecond for five Chinese volunteers to materialize with large placards and stand next to each other to shield him from the spectators' view. I wish I had a geographically appropriate metaphor for this great wall that the Chinese people made, but nothing comes to mind. Anyway, nice touch by China, refusing to allow Baranyi's grotesque injury to be part of the spectacle.

So what does NBC do? It re-runs the injury in slow-motion from three different angles. You stay classy, NBC.

As part of Manohla Dargis' mixed review of "Tropic Thunder" this morning, she refers to Ben Stiller as "the guy with the penis literally stuck in his zipper in 'There’s Something About Mary'," but unless I'm mistaken, wasn't it his scrotum which became so entangled? Or at a minimum, I believe "his genitals" would be more accurate than the more limiting "penis" given the entirety of the situation, especially based on the visual at about 2:28 of the scene, which remains, as you can imagine, not quite safe for work.

[Dear Chinese censors: you have your excuse now. Also, by the way, are you seeing this movie? I probably will try.]

WEDNESDAY MORNING, 3 A.M. (DEATH TO FALSE METAL VERSION): Back in my college radio days, on the mandatory frosh graveyard shift from 2-5 a.m., we were sometimes blessed with telephone requests from the local county sheriff's lock-up. I'm not sure how that happened, but presume that the local constabulary had its reasons for putting us on over the P.A. in the tank, and that cranked-up guests of the facility sometimes had no one else to call, didn't want the party to end, etc., while stuck there at that dark and often disappointing time of the morning. (It's also possible that some insomniac prankster was getting creative with their Mac Classic, but who'd want to live in that world?)

A typical conversation would go something like this:

Me: Hello, W***.

Caller: This is the ******* County Sheriff's Department Detention Facility. You have a collect call from ... SLAYER!! PLAY ANGEL OF DEATH!! ... To accept charges, press 1 now.

Partner: Who is it?

Me: Jail.

Partner: Sweet. What do they want?

Me: Here. (passing phone)

Caller: Again, this is the ******* County Sheriff's Department Detention Facility. To accept charges for the call from ... SLAAAYYYERRRRRRRRR!!! ..., press 1 now.

Partner: Could this be any cooler?

Caller: ANGEL OF DEAAATH!! PLAY SLAYER! SLAYERRRR!! ... will be disconnected if you do not accept charges in 30 seconds.

Me: Well, yeah. For example, if we weren't in the middle of a folk set...

Which is a long way of getting around to a point we make perhaps over-frequently around these parts: even good things aren't always as good as they could be. To make a small mostly conscious effort to balance that tendency, right here at this dark and often disappointing hour of the morning, I'd like to take an opportunity here to emphasize the positive side of things:

1) If you are up at 3 a.m. reading this, take heart: at least you aren't in jail in Western Massachusetts.

2) And, if you're thinking "But wait, I AM IN JAIL IN WESTERN MASSACHUSETTS!! (SLAYERRR!!!)." First, check to be sure it's jail. It might just be college, or, you know, some sort of boarding school that pays special attention to the discipline of its charges. Second, if you got interwebs in jail, man, that's pretty hot! You could have been busted back in the 90s when all you got was collect calls to local numbers and the chance to brawl with guys that liked your shoes (in a bad way).

3) And, no matter what your situation, consider that all sorts of things all around us are improving in little ways all the time. The prisons are web-enabled, boarding schools are increasingly sensitive to the prior disciplinary records of the students they accept (and prepared to take precautions to protect or at least insulate surrounding communities), and Motorhead has finally fixed Metallica's overly-melodic original recording of Enter Sandman.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Didn't someone just splice a bunch of color-corrected (washed-out to black and white) clips from the old Ace of Spades video in with the theatrical cuts from the original video by Hetfield et al.? Yes. Yes, they did. But focus on the music, which is inarguably an improvement over the original (he said, as if to provoke an argument).

And, if you think to the contrary that Motorhead's version pushed the original in the wrong direction entirely, then consider the alternative provided by the three-cello attack of Apocalyptica.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

"MY INTENTION IS TO STEAL A LOT OF YOUR LINES:" Aaron Sorkin talks with GQ about fathers, sons, and Sports Night, being sucked up to by Barack Obama, what went wrong with Studio 60, and his oddball experience of being both on strike and being struck against last fall.

SETTLING INTERNATIONAL SUPREMACY WITH CHALK AND SPARKLY LEOTARDS: Tonight, the women's team competition in artistic gymnastics will dominate coverage. Taylor has a preview:

If the US women's team wanted to lower expectations on the qualifying round, they succeeded too much. In a possible voodoo or karma related event, Sam Peszek, who could have been a serious threat on vault and beam, hurt her ankle during warm ups. She'll only compete on uneven bars tonight. During qualifiers, she looked okay considering she'd just hurt herself, but definitely not ready to get every point US is going to need on bars. Then Alicia Sacramone landed out of bounds on floor, and because bad things happen in threes, Nastia Lukin destroyed her dismount on bars. You'd think that anyone else on the team would be shaken up after that, but Shawn Johnson barely blinked, much less wavered on all her routines. I'm rooting for Liukin to hit that bar routine in either tonight or the event finals (or, hope beyond hope, both), because it's absolutely amazing when put together.

Based on difficulty (the "A" score), the US team is already at a disadvantage. Chinese women have insane release moves on bars and powerful tumbling on floor but it's frustrating that they they don't seem to get deducted for rushing through the dance and flexiblity elements. Color commentator Elfi Schlegel found Jiang Yuyuan's chorerography "stunning". I saw a lot of incomplete moves on her way to reach that next tumbling pass. Chung Fei, though, is super sharp on floor, on beam, and specially on vault. If the US wins tonight, its going to be based on a lot of athletic schadenfreude(Ed. note: watch this video.)

Tonight, there might as well be no teams other than US and China. I'm not discounting some Cinderella story for bronze, but the broadcast will be all about the fight for gold. You better believe NBC has the quickest editors in their dramatic intro department whipping up the epic showdown music and abusing the slow-mo function. The team's handlers aren't helping. Bela Karolyi showed up in the International Broadcasting Center Sunday night/Monday morning to talk to Costas about the women's chances (something about them being under an umbrella?), and ended up accusing the Argentinian judge of anti-American bias after they scored Johnson's beam execution with an 8.8. Bela, Bela, Bela, she may have been underscored by one person, but anti-American bias? If that's the case, the Korean judge might as well be an honorary citizen. The Argentinian underscored everybody.

Philadelphia: Michael, you're a sports writer who has always been sensitive to the political and social ramifications of the athletes and events you cover. Are the print media doing a sufficient job of reminding readers of the brutally repressive Chinese regime? Is NBC sugarcoating things too much?

Michael Wilbon: If you want information and insight about serious news issues as they relate to China, read The Post and The New York Times and others responsible newspapers with reporters and columnists who are unafraid. If you want to cheer on the U.S. athletes, watch TV. It's always been this way. The networks, and that now includes ESPN, an entity whose generous checks I cash monthly, are partners with the leagues and the events. They're not going to view them at a distance. The NBA Finals on ABC, which is the way the event is billed and sold, isn't going to lead with the Tim Donaghey news the way The Washington Post or The New York Times would lead its sports section. Not going to happen. So, you know that going on and consume your information accordingly. That doesn't mean the networks don't investigate and do tough reporting...just not with those they're partnered with...

As I mentioned in the Comments last night, I was particularly disturbed by a cutesy piece by Mary Carillo on the "new China" that was all golly jeepers that's big! about the Three Gorges Dam construction, with no mention at all of the ~1.2 million people forcibly displaced or the environmental damage caused.

In other news, the WaPo's Jill Drew reports today on China's whitewashing of the Tiananmen Square massacre. "The forced amnesia is perpetuated in Chinese schools, where the lessons of the Tiananmen massacre are not taught in history class. If it is mentioned at all, students are instructed that some soldiers lost their lives putting down an unruly anti-government mob."

I KNOW I NEED TO STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS, BUT I CAN'T STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS: From yesterday's MMQB by the worst national football writer in America who is not named Len Pasquarelli:

a. Remember what Steve Mariucci once told me about Favre, and apply it to learning a new offense. "He's got a photographic memory, or very close to it,'' Mariucci, his former quarterback coach, said. "You think he's sleeping there in the meetings, and he still knows everything he has to know and doesn't make mental mistakes.''

Have King and Mariucci never watched a game of football in their lives? Favre doesn't make mental mistakes? Brett Favre holds the NFL career record in interceptions thrown. His 29 INTs in 2005 are the highest single-season interception total among active players unless Testaverde is considered active (and Testaverde's worst INT year came his first full year as a starter). Favre has had 31 multi-interception games in the last five years (10 of them were games with 3 or more interceptions). For comparison, in the last five years Peyton Manning has 9 multi-interception games and Brady has 14. In somewhat less time (ranging from a few games to about a season or so's worth missed), McNabb has 9, Hasselbeck has 17, Bulger has 17, Brees has 19, and Carson Palmer has 19. I think those are all of the QBs who have started about 80% of the games since the beginning of 2003 (Garcia and Kitna rode the pine too much to qualify).

Certainly not all of Favre's interceptions are mental mistakes, but a lot of them -- the ones where he does the classic Favre thing of running around and then chucking the ball up at a greater-than-45-degree angle -- I'm pretty sure that's not how the plays were drawn up. And yes, I realize that interceptions are not the only gauge of mental mistakes, but they're a pretty good proxy, just like walks are a decent but imperfect measure of control for a pitcher. So there is at least some reason to think that Favre actually makes mental mistakes more frequently than any other QB in football and zero reason to think that he makes almost none. But King likes Mariucci's quote, and he likes Favre's Billy Bob Thornton impression (nope, not making this up), so screw the facts.

I'M FOR TRUTH, JUSTICE, AND THE AMERICAN WAY, LOIS: Taylor has the skinny for you on the men's team gymnastic -- excuse me, excuse me, artistic gymnastic -- finals:

I spent the earlier part of Monday evening sitting on the National Mall watching Superman because the American men's gymnastics team wasn't even going to medal, so NBC was only going to show highlights Tuesday in primetime, and I was going to watch Christoper Reeve pretend to fly on a 15 foot screen. Then I got home, my roommate was yelling at the TV and Team USA was winning. What the hell was going on? Was this related in anyway to Superman making the earth rotate backward?

Of course, the gold medalists in the end were the home team. The Chinese win is not even a story - they did it by substantial amount and didn't even falter in the superficial ways they had earlier during the qualifying round. Even when the Chinese team ended on high bar, historically their weakest apparatus, the Chinese played it extremely safe. Way to win so soundly that you bore everybody, China.

Earlier, when the US started to lead, NBC interrupted its all-important swimming coverage to go live to the gymnastics [excuse me, the artistic gymnastics -- Ed.] competition. Raj and Jonathan Horton stuck their vaults and Justin Spring pushed another couple of fractions of point out of his high bar routine. They led through three rotations, and even though it was still mathematically improbable (for all its excitement, gymnastics is often a game of numbers - much like electoral math [or Dr. Brain's Robot -- Ed.]) the commentators started talking as if Superman himself had walked into the building. As if on cue, that's when the team faltered. The floor routines were messy, especially when Joey Hagerty stepped out of bounds.

The US ended on its weakest event as well, the pommel horse, and it hurt the team badly. Kevin Tan ended up at 12.775 points, the lowest score of the entire night. Raj wasn't much better and fell in the middle of his dismount. In the team finals, you send up three people and all three scores count, so the only guy left was Alex "if not for both Hamms" Artemev. This what happens when you leave your entire ability to medal or not to the second alternate.

But Artemev took a deep breath, and well, he proved them all wrong (including me - "Don't choke, Sasha!" I yelled at the screen), posting the fourth best score on the pommel horse of the night. The Germans just didn't have the routines to make up the difference.

SO THAT'S WHAT THOSE 8000 CALORIES A DAY ARE FOR: So I knew that Michael Phelps was amazing and all, but I don't think I fully grasped the extent of his dominance until I watched last night's 200m freestyle. The downside of the striving-for-eight-medals thing is that he doesn't necessarily flip on the hyperdrive switch unless he decides that it's time to set a new world record. But after watching last night's ridiculousness, all I can say is wow. At least he had the good grace to breathe (a little) harder after the race.

AlexG on 12 Songs: "[T]he main triumph of 12 Songs is the conflict between Rubin's approach and Diamond's inherent showmanship and bombast. While Cash sounded like a man with a foot in the grave reflecting on his entire life, Diamond, while acknowledging his mortality seems to be insisting he still has something left to offer."

Monday, August 11, 2008

THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA: I like the Lexis hotline, since it is almost invariably faster to have them find an obscure library than to dig around and find it myself. Nevertheless, nevertheless: the hold music is a soul-crushing love child of the Windham Hill Collection, Switched-On Bach, and Grover Washington.

I have recently learned that Lexis representatives are required to report all complaints back to management and at least a few of them are sympathetic to the problem. So, if you are a lawyer and you have occasion to be placed on hold, please complain. You will be doing your host a great favor.

BRING BACK ANDERSON: Last week's thread suggested that there might be some interest in a Mole finale thread. The chronicle of sabotage wasn't really that surprising (nor would it have been for any of the finalists, who all had arguable acts of sabotage), but the revelation of just how successful the Mole was at throwing off the other players and just how close we came to having a very different winner were interesting.

QUICK, SOMEBODY RUN TO COSTCO AND GET US A REFILL OF SEPIA: Slate is keeping tabs on the giant wheels of cheese NBC is rolling at us during its soft-focus vignettes (and really, after "athlete from crumbling nation undertakes child-saving emigration, reaches fifth Olympics at twice the age of teammates," how moved could you really be by "giant-eared swimmer tutored by elite club coach paid by suburban single mom" or "Bay Area swimmer loves to cook and hang out with friends"?). Investigative journalism like this is exactly why they're the professionals and I'm just an amateur:

You even get a "Sap-O-Meter Tag Cloud" for a visual depiction of your hearstrings being tugged for fun and profit. I love this so much that I want to use the Sap-O-Meter as my own personal literary advance scout.

[INSERT ORIGINAL HORSES JOKE HERE]: Now that you've had a few hours to digest the intricacies of water polo, Mr. Cosmopolitan is back to provide some insight as to what you'll see over the next couple of weeks at the Yingdong Natatorium:

Water polo is the oldest team sport in the Olympics, having been first contested at the 1900 Paris games, with women competing for the first time in 2000. For complicated historical reasons that I can make up on request, you’ll rarely go wrong backing an Eastern European or Balkan team. Hungary, Yugoslavia (and its descendants), and Russia (and its predecessor) have dominated the sport almost from the beginning. In 1956, this domination by Hungary led to one of the more gruesome Olympic events in history, as Hungary and the Soviet Union met in the pool just months after the Soviet Union had crushed the Hungarian uprising. The match was called in the fourth quarter with Hungary leading 4-0, after multiple players from both sides suffered extensive cuts and injuries. More recently, Spain, Italy, and the United States have fielded quality teams on the men’s side, while the women’s teams are still sorting themselves out. This year, expect the traditional powerhouses to dominate, with Croatia, Hungary, and Spain at the top of the men’s field, and the United States looking for a medal on the women’s side. The men’s first match is against China on August 10 – if we can’t beat them, it will be a long, long tournament. [ETA – the U.S. men won the China opener 8-4, but the game was closer than the score indicates.]

As far as particular players to watch, the U.S. team is composed almost exclusively of 6’ 3” blonde Californian guys. So nothing to see, really. The women are similarly unappealing. On the men’s side, THE GUY is Tony Azevado, 4-time NCAA player of the year. He’s good. On the women’s side, Brenda Villa is a three-time Olympian, and the rare polo player who scores consistently despite being just 5’4”. [Thereby offering a ray of hope to Mr. Cosmopolitan that his offspring might someday follow in his footsteps despite his suboptimally heighted wife -- ed.]

Finally, a few things to look for (and mention) and thus impress your many Croatian friends:

The players rarely, if ever, miss a pass. Don’t take this for granted – it takes an incredible amount of skill, balance, and stamina to both throw and catch (with one hand) a ball that is zipping around at serious speed. Compare how often a polo player misses a pass to how often the puck or ball doesn’t get where it’s supposed to go in a hockey or soccer match.

The offensive player with his back to the goal is known as the “hole man.” Leaving a hole man’s backhand open is just as dangerous as leaving him open on the front, since there’s nothing cooler than a good backhand.

The goalies are incredibly good – when the ball is in their end, many goalies will tread water up to their suits for 10 seconds at a time, and they can cover the whole net. The best way to beat a good goalie is either with a skip shot off the water, or go directly over his head (alternately known as a doughnut or a bunny ears shot).

Another good way to beat a goalie is to fake a hard shot, and then lob the ball over his head. Properly executed, you not only get a goal out of the shot, but a great image of a goalie flailing madly as the ball goes over his head.

YOU SUPPLY THE SATISFY; I'LL SUPPLY THE NEED: A mere three months ago, Adam asked:

shouldn't the machine already know the language in which you'd prefer to transact business? Presumably, if English were not your preferred language you'd be receiving your bank statements in some other tongue; moreover, after years of transactions in which you've selected English every time, what are the chances you'd be changing your mind now?

Language preference is not something that is recorded or noted anywhere, so it cannot be communicated to the ATM terminal. It's theoretically possible and would work best on a smart card that communicated directly with the terminal. But as of now, transactions specifications do not include any data about language.

Bankers, though, will eventually respond to any demand, whether it be for a zero-down-no-credit-check jumbo mortgage (offer expires 1/1/06) or a desire to commune with consumers in a common language. Today, after emptying a senile relative's withdrawing money from my account, I was asked by Citibank's ATM whether I wanted to customize my ATM account, including by selecting a default language.

If ALOTT5MA were the San Francisco Chronicle, we'd be taking credit for this development right now.

SADLY, HIS "WR-POLO" LICENSE PLATE HAS BEEN LOST TO THE AGES: To help out those who have been admiring the tall blonde men and women playing water polo without the vaguest comprehension of the rules of the game (Isaac's helpful "warm hockey" description notwithstanding), we have asked our resident water polo expert to explain what's actually happening in and under the water. I thus introduce Mr. Cosmopolitan, who is already teaching Cosmo Girl how to kick a proper eggbeater.

For those not familiar with the sport, water polo has been variously described as waterborne rugby, waterborne soccer, hockey at 70 degrees, and the last best bastion of ancient Greek homoeroticism. Before reviewing the rules, two important meta-items. First, no, there are no horses. Second, there are no new jokes to be made about the lack of horses (although all are free to take their shot in the comments). Trust me on this one. My water polo cred comes from four years of playing in the water polo mecca of St. Louis, one year at the far end of the bench in college, three years of coaching the women’s team in college, and a brief, glorious summer scrimmaging with the Washington Wetskins. (Ask Mrs. Cosmo about that particular story.) [I never ever ever get sick of talking about the Washington Wetskins -- ed.]

The object and rules of the game are pretty simple: 1) using only one hand at a time on the ball, 2) throw the ball into the goal, 3) while not drowning. That last bit, of course, is where the complications arise. Basically, if you have the ball, the other team can do anything they want to you, except for hitting with a closed fist. So you’ll see ball-handlers getting whacked, slapped, grabbed, kicked, pulled underwater, and pretty much anything else that would prevent them from putting the ball into the net. On the other hand, if you don’t have possession of the ball, the rules are technically akin to a loosely called basketball game – if you have position you’re entitled to hold it, and you’re not supposed to cream the other guy too badly when he’s trying to move around the pool. Technically.

The challenge, of course, is that the two referees can’t see very well underwater. Because the players essentially support themselves by kicking their legs in opposite-rotation circles (think of an eggbeater), the hands are left free for all kinds of mischief. One particularly useful technique is to hook a thumb into the waistband of your opponent’s suit and use him as leverage. Even better is the ability to wrap an opponent’s legs up with one of your own, thus enabling the perpetrator to raise both hands above the water and look innocently at the referee, who is wondering why the opponent has been replaced with a stream of bubbles rising from two feet underwater. While serious injuries are rare, it is virtually impossible to get through a game without an injury that, if viewed by the Department of Child Services, would likely get you put in foster care. Most common are bruises to every part of the body; sprained fingers, elbows and shoulders; broken fingers, noses and eardrums; shallow gashes (despite the pre-game inspection of fingernails); and dislocated jaws. My personal favorite injury was the violent removal of one particularly arrogant bastard’s hoop earring, which dangled just far enough outside his ear protector for me an opponent to do the honors.

If you get caught doing something sorta bad (like hitting a guy after he has dropped the ball), the referees will call a “common foul,” which results in an immediate free throw, kind of like an indirect kick in soccer. These common fouls occur constantly, and the action hardly skips a beat – so don’t worry about the constant whistles. If you get caught doing something worse (like pulling someone backwards while they are going for the ball), an “ejection” or “exclusion foul” is called, and the perpetrator is kicked out of the pool for twenty seconds, during which time the other team has a man advantage power play.

That's it for the rules of the game. In a few hours, we'll post Mr. Cosmo's Olympic preview.

THE WEIL GOTSCHAL LIST: We spill a lot of ink covering Halls of Fame which we are unlikely to be inducted into, but if you try hard enough (and you're a bankruptcy lawyer), maybe you can become a member of America's least interesting Hall of Fame--the Turnaround, Restructuring and Distressed Industry Hall of Fame--which recently announced its inaugural class of inductees.

A GOOD THING: The concept of Martha Stewart watching Mystery Science Theatre 3,000 is amusing enough in and of itself, but that it's served as inspiration for the new show Whatever, Martha!, a new show on Fine Living in which Martha's daughter and a co-host mock, in "candid and often acerbic" manners, old episodes of Martha Stewart Living turns the comedy quotient up to 11.

CASTLE DENTALSTEIN: The Little Earthling usually does a good job brushing his teeth before bed, but if he gets tired -- and today, his fourth birthday, he was pretty beat -- I sometimes need to finish up for him. As I'm trying to get the back teeth, he starts chomping every time I move the toothbrush a quarter inch and declares -- having played (apparently) a few too many Miniclip games with me -- "Dad, this is going to be a very hard level."

BECAUSE HE CAN LIE ON HIS BACK AND BEND HIS ANKLES FORWARD SO FAR THAT HIS TOES CAN TOUCH THE GROUND: So we should talk about the sports themselves now that the events have started, and all conversation begins (as it must) with Michael Phelps, 1 Gold/1 World record down, seven to go, along with Dara Torres become the oldest ever swimming medalist -- anchoring the silver medal-winning women's 4x100 freestyle. There is much to say about the pool events, and I will leave it to y'all to say it first.

I do want to talk about USA Basketball for a minute, because I watched the first half of this morning's win over China, and two things are evident to me: (1) this American team will lose at least one game before the tournament is over (prediction: Spain, August 16), because they are way too careless with the ball on some of the cross-court and through-traffic passing; and (2) these Games have a way of reawakening the nationalist in me. I got seriously nervous before that second-quarter run, and am happy to cheer on Bronnie and Kidd while they're wearing the colors. Also, it's nice to see Original Recipe Dwyane Wade return.

So for all matters Olympic, including but not limited to more Chinese censorship or Team Raj and his ridiculous biceps, this is an open thread. What are you watching, and how are you watching it?

From the same album, "By the Time I Get to Phoenix", which hit #37 on the Billboard charts, began with a long monologue about the power of love before Hayes started to sing. These lengthy songs differed sharply from the standard three minute soul/pop songs of the time.

Hayes composed the soundtrack for the blaxploitation film Shaft in 1971 (he also appeared in the 2000 remake of the film in a cameo role as the bartender of No Name Bar). The title theme, with its wah-wah guitar and multi-layered arrangement, hit #1 for two weeks on the Billboard charts in November. The song garnered Hayes two Academy awards and two Grammy awards. Hayes worked on 65 soundtracks (counting television shows).

Do check out the album cover of his 1976 album Juicy Fruit, which featured Hayes in a pool with naked women (SFW). Hayes' last big hit was a funky disco tune released in 1979 called "Don't Let Go", which hit #18 in December.

PROVING, ONCE AGAIN, THAT I HAVE THE MATURITY OF A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD: As seen this morning outside the town tennis court by the Wellfleet (MA) harbor, in front of a playground frequented by many young and impressionable children, promoting the local free summer concert series:

So many reactions, and all of them bad. I'm picturing this really short guy with a riding crop and helmet ...

THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE: I suppose this story began last night. My wife and I were in our convertible on our way to dinner at a local Italian restaurant. The top was down, the night was warm -- you get the picture.

We were listening to a mix-CD I'd made featuring the "Philadelphia Sound" -- Teddy Pendergrass, the O'Jays, the Soul Survivors, and similar artists. On came an obscure early Hall and Oates song "It's Uncanny" (you might want to skip past the interview with Hall at the start the of the youtube clip; the song actually begins at about 2:00). The song was from an album called "No Goodbyes" that Atlantic released after the group left the label around 1977. I had bought that album on LP when I was in college.

Near the end of college, I was involved in serious romance, which continued for a year or so after I graduated (the woman was still an undergraduate). The romance ended suddenly and unhappily for me (that's the nice way of saying I got dumped). I decided to move as far away from the east coast as I could in a bid for a fresh start. I got a job in San Francisco and moved across the country, packing everything I owned into my tiny hatchback. I sold the "No Goodbyes" LP, along with perhaps one-third of my LPs, at the famous Princeton Record Exchange a week or two before I moved since I did not have room in my car for all of my records.

My wife was digging "It's Uncanny" as we drove along. She'd never heard the song before. I told her about a similar song on the same LP called "Love You Like a Brother." Then I told her the story about the broken romance (well, she'd heard about the romance, but not about the LPs). I told her that I regretted having sold my only copy of the LP since that song was so good and I did not have it on CD.

"Love You Like a Brother" kept going through my head last night. This morning it was still "playing" in my mind. So I decided to buy myself a copy. But for the life of me, I could not find it anywhere. Not on amazon, not on BMG, not even on iTunes. I couldn't even find any indication that the song had ever existed on the normally thorough allmusic.com.

Finally, I did a search for the album "No Goodbyes" and discovered that it had never been released as a CD and that perhaps half the songs on it, including "Love You Like a Brother" had never been released on any compilation CD. I was able to find it for sale on LP. A dilemma loomed.

Up until about a year ago, I had a high-end "audiophile" turntable. One of my sons (inadvertently) had damaged the tonearm. The repair would have cost over $600, so I decided to sell the turntable as is to a vinyl junkie who lived near Allentown. Since then, I have used an inexpensive turntable from my sister's college stereo system, but it's just not the same as listening to LPs played on a high quality turntable. As a result, I now rarely listen to my collection of perhaps 750 LPs.

In the end, my jonesing for the song got the better of me. I ordered the LP. Soon, my wife will at long last experience this nugget of Philly soul gold.

So, I suppose this tale lends itself to a few questions. Does anyone else still listen to vinyl? Does anyone else love high-end stereo systems? Does anyone else regret having sold an album (or a book or similar item)? Has anyone else followed a compulsion for a particular song as far as I just did? And might I assume that we have all done some dramatic things in response to dashed romantic dreams as I did post-college?

A MODERN EDISON: The WaPo's Anne Hornaday tries to place George Lucas in context: "Edison is credited with helping to create the rudiments of cinematic grammar with his early short films, but they were created not to tell stories but to demonstrate the cameras, sound recorders and other equipment he was inventing." And in re his upcoming The Clone Wars,

A hectic, often incoherent pastiche of plotty dialogue and frantic battle action, "The Clone Wars" is populated by stiffly animated versions of such prequel characters as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker. But for warmth and pure heart, they're not nearly as human as the little trash compactor whose life and loves drive "WALL*E." In the latter, the stakes are high -- for the protagonist and the planet he loves. In "Clone Wars," the only thing at stake is whether Lucas will be able to take yet another bite of a thoroughly consumed apple. And viewers are left hungry.

In other words, "WALL E," like every Pixar movie, hews to the company's famous motto: "Story is king." And story has never been king with Lucas.

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